Fate
by YahLiz
Summary: Post fic for 7x06. Spoilers for episode! What will the repercussions be now that other-world Castle has changed the fates of AU!Beckett and his AU counterpart? Picks up at the shooting.
1. Chapter 1

_Fate_

"Oh God, Mr. Castle."

Everything is burning! His chest is being ruptured in two! How did his Beckett survive this? How can anyone survive such horrendous agony?!

"You saved my life. Why?"

That's right. This isn't his Kate. The shock made him forget for a precious moment, but he's alone here—without her.

His Kate would never have to ask.

"Because I love you, Kate."

When he says it there's a transposed moment of him leaning over her body while a different 'I love you' for a different world spills from him lips. This Kate's eyes widen as his words register and she seems to scoot closer to his mortal form as if wanting to believe that a stranger, because that's what he is to her in this world, could love her so deeply.

There's a weight to his soul that compresses his chest and he knows that it's the bullet that burned and burrowed its way into his body. He's gasping now, trying to get his body to continue to function while his lifeblood is sluicing from the rend in his flesh. He can't take much more of this Captain Beckett and how she's so much like his Kate; but with every slight, unknowable touch he's terribly reminded that he's about to die with the wrong version of his fiancée.

"Mr. Castle, no, please don't go! Stay with me."

He hadn't noticed that his eyes had closed. His breath was coming in short pants and his core was starting to chill. The amulet in his hand was starting to become too much of a burden to hold on to. He just needed that blue light. He just needed –

"Stay with me, Castle!"

Oh, it would have meant so much more coming from his Beckett. This Beckett is still too cold with him, no matter how positive things seemed to be going in the precinct and then at the bar. There is something there, some empathy as her fingers ghost his neck and upper chest as she assess him in his distress, but it's not the burning compassion that flares in his Beckett's eyes and he finds himself missing that most of all. It's time to just close his eyes and be swallowed by the accepted, calm dark.

Maybe he'll wake up in the right world.

Where his love awaits.

* * *

><p>Everything is too heavy and he doesn't want to move, but there's a strip of light that's right against his eye lid and it's starting to annoy him. He lets out a grunt of pain as he tries to shift away, and his eyes bolt open on a heavy gasp as the pain in his chest flairs up.<p>

Oh, God! He wants to just die. He needs it to just stop!

So much agony.

He slams his eyes closed again while he's trying to breathe through the pain and he can hear people talking and bustling around his bed. Something gets jostled near his arm and the relief seems to trickle through his emaciated bloodstream allowing him to settle and fall back into blissful darkness.

He dreams of grass that is too green, elephants with terrible secrets, and matching scars.

* * *

><p>"I already called Mom, Grams. I'm not going back. I can't leave him."<p>

He hasn't opened his eyes yet, too much work—they're too heavy, but he can definitely feel his daughter's hands clinging to one of his own. Her thin fingers quaking against his cool flesh. He curls his fingers around a few of her own digits and she squeaks with a start at his movement.

"Dad? Oh, Dad! You're awake!"

He has the strength to open one eye and give his lovely daughter a crooked smile. Anything to stop the tears that he can now see staining her face. His mother is right beside her and she's trying her best to withhold her own torrent of waterworks; her trembling bottom lip a dead giveaway.

"Hey, pumpkin."

The nickname seems to catch her by surprise, but then she's chuckling through her tears and an invisible weight seems to have been lifted.

* * *

><p>It's been a few days of doctors, x-rays, blood tests, and police reports, but Castle finally realizes that he's back to where he needs to be.<p>

Or, so he believes.

After being unable to fall back to sleep after a late visit with his mother, it dawns that he can remember writing _Finite Laughter_ and pushing his daughter away to LA to be with Meredith. Yet, he can also remember bits of the other him. . .or the him that was? He isn't sure what to call the situation, but he can remember a different life with, then, _detective_ Beckett and their happiness—and he wants that. So badly it aches almost as much as the hole in his chest.

He also remembers Nikki Heat. Oh, how he remembers Nikki Heat! It's only been three days, but he's already itching to get to his laptop to start diving into the story that already-is in another world. Is it plagiarism if another you wrote it? He'll deal with the semantics later, but he has so many questions to ask before he can really begin, and as he lays his head back in his hospital bed he hopes that Beckett won't mind him poking a bit more.

* * *

><p>"I didn't mean to intrude, I just—I just wanted to bring these for Castle."<p>

He stirs as he hears his daughter usher someone into his room while announcing that she's going to step out for lunch, and it takes much less of an effort to open his eyes and readjust himself than it did yesterday to greet his new visitor. When he opens his eyes he's greeted with a glorious smile and the most expressive eyes he's ever had the privilege to look into.

"Hey, Castle."

Her voice is so cautious as she sits in the chair to his left and places the arrangement of flowers near his bedside. There's a faint blush that's risen on her cheeks, and he reaches out to grab her hand that she's placed on his bed.

She lets him.

"Hey, Kate. I didn't think you'd come visit."

She chuckles and it's like renewed life to his shattered body. He needs this. He needs her. And it's all thanks to his other self for re-entwining their fate and correcting this world. Correcting such a grievous error that was McNulty getting the Tisdale case and not Beckett.

Because his life is so much _more_ with her in it.

"Just thought I should stop by and grovel a bit. Try and convince you not to sue the state."

He chuckles in his throat, but even that's enough to upset his wound. His laughter turns to a grimace and she's there, stroking a reassuring hand up and down his forearm. So close to what he can remember from his other life.

"Is that the only reason you came to see me, Beckett? To beg on behalf of your bosses? Not even gonna get a thank you for saving your life?"

He says it with a smile because he can feel this connection too, and she's mirroring him with the most tender expression. So akin to the kind he can faintly remember from the life of his other self, and the glorious passion that is that Kate Beckett's love.

"I was actually thinking I could take you out for a drink, once you're done slacking in that hospital bed, as a thank you. Buy you your first round after you've recovered."

She's biting her lip again and her eyes are bright with hope. He maneuvers his left hand to clasp hers tightly, trying and failing to ignore the static spark against their contact. This is fate. Kismet—that his other self just happened to fall into this case and bring them together. Serendipitous—that his other self was able to work the case and meet her again, in this other world, where just last week they were strangers.

"I'd love to."

He sees the flash in her eyes as he drops the 'L' word again, already in so deep because of the fire he knows is in her soul. He won't prod yet, maybe call her in a few days when he gets discharged. Invite her over to watch cheesy movies with him or maybe even Nebula 9. He _distinctly_ remembers an other-self memory about Nebula 9.

But, for now, he'll give her space.

Because he knows how much she's worth it.

And he can't wait to begin again.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Perfect episode was perfect!**

**Thank you all for being so patient with me on my other stories, especially my multi-fic. I just started seeing a new therapist so I'm hoping that'll help me start moving my life along so that I can go back to being me again.**

**Thank you all so much. **


	2. Chapter 2

_Fate _

Chapter 2

**For all of you and your lovely words. **

**Thank you for making this easy**.

* * *

><p>"You don't get to laugh!"<p>

Out of spite, he lets out an over exaggerated guffaw as one of the soap opera stars of _Temptation Lane_ weeps dramatically over the death of her husband's identical twin brother who she had been sleeping with. Kate scrunched her nose up in annoyance, but can't hide the smile pulling at her pursed lips—eyes shining with mirth.

He loves it.

He loves her.

But, they're not there. . . yet.

They have been doing this for the past few weeks. She'll come over on one of her days off and spend the day with him while he's house ridden; watching terrible movies on Netflix. Or, he'll tell her snippets of what he remembers from their other selves. It has started to become foggier—like a dream he's trying to remember or a word that's just on the tip of his tongue.

At first she was skeptical, pulling faces of disbelief as he told her everything he could remember about the other him and the other her and how they solved crimes and brought justice to the dead like a pair of superheroes. It takes him talking about her past and things he couldn't possibly know for her to finally admit that it _might_ be possible.

It took him talking about her mother's case for her to believe him fully.

He can't remember names or any specifics, almost like the universe is trying to make them work for the resolution that the other them must have already found. But there are times when he remembers the press of a gun to his back or the weight of her in his arms as he carries her out of a dark building and he knows it must have been arduous. Hopefully, if they start breaking through on her mother's case, there won't be as much violence as he feels there was in the other universe.

Some things, mostly about her, seem to be permanent. The way she likes her eggs, the way he knows how to make her laugh, her favorite wine—it's all there in his head like he's known her for years and sometimes he's taken aback when he's not allowed to just kiss her. Hmm, he's never been jealous of himself before. Interesting.

"I get to laugh if you're going to keep making me watch this excuse for entertainment."

She swats at him, pathetically, with the back of her hand as her giggle finally emerges for him to absorb. He knows what this show means to her, and he's been using it as an excuse to cuddle with her on the couch as best as he can. The hole in his chest is healing nicely, but it still hurts to move too quickly or breathe too deeply. She helps, though; they all help, honestly. Kate, Alexis, who's moved back from L.A. to be here with him like she should be, and even his mother—his women. He's so lucky, and sometimes it honestly scares him to think what his life would have been like if that amulet hadn't had brought the other him into this life and shook up all kinds of cosmic trouble!

Seemingly repositioning the pieces of Fate's design to fix his destiny.

Thank God for the other him.

"Castle, are you okay?"

He blinks at her and realizes he must have started to doze as he let his mind wander back to the memories of his other self.

"Yeah, just—just thinking too much."

"The other us?"

'Us', oh how wonderful that sounds.

"Yeah, a bit. Can't stop my mind from escaping to his memories. It's like a weird sense of déjà vu that is constant every time I try to push at the shimmer of a thought that he had had. It's weird having two me's in my own head. We're so different and yet, it's only one thing that separated us."

She moves a bit closer. The closest she's been to him, and not to the him in his head who's been taunting his dreams with the memory of a Kate that he's never touched. He notes the shift in her eyes as she plays with the half-sleeve of his button-up shirt and the way she's biting her bottom lip with her perfect teeth.

"Me, right? Meeting me made the other you the man he is."

He nods at her as she repeats the information that he'd finally told her once he'd realized. He'd figured it out when he kept going over what the other him had said while in this world; those memories seem to be the strongest since they were basically one-in-the-same person. Which is a completely different thing to think about, and had kept him up many a night!

"So," she stops to play with one of the buttons on his shirt. His heart is beating way too fast. Probably isn't good for his post-surgery body. "now that we've passed the hurdle of meeting, what's next for us?"

There's that 'us' again. Oh, what a concept!

He gulps as she shifts a bit closer, sweeping her deep hazel eyes up to pierce him with their hypnotic gaze. He could get lost in her eyes.

"Whatever you want, Kate. We can be whatever you're most comfortable with, as quickly or as slowly as you need."

He must have said something right because the next thing he knows she's kissing him so softly. Her palm comes up to cradle the side of his face and his mind burns for a moment with all the other kisses the other thems have had. Hundreds of images and passions of their lips touching, but not _his_ lips and _her_ lips. He jerks back from her mouth and he's panting from all of the over-stimuli from that flashback. He focuses on his Kate's face and tries to catch his breath as she looks on, slightly disconcerted.

"I'm sorry—I'm so—I just—." He's not even sure how to describe what just happened without totally freaking her out. How do you tell a woman you just started dating—is that what they're doing?, that you just experienced years of fervent, private moments.

"Castle."

He stops thinking and really looks at her, still trying to control his breathing so that his chest doesn't start to hurt. Her eyes are burning with uncertainty and embarrassment. Oh, oh!

"No, Kate. It wasn't—please don't think I didn't want that! Because I did, I do! I want that a lot, all the time!"

He's fumbling to try and fix the problem and she pops and eyebrow at his admission. He feels his face start to burn with sheepishness and she lets a smile pull at her lips.

"Sorry," he apologizes, not meaning to put her on the spot. God, he's so bad at this! "That's not what I meant. I meant that I really really liked that."

"Wow, two reallys. Must be serious."

Was she mocking him? What an adorable woman.

He moves to lean forward to try to kiss her again but is met with a tight ball of pain in the center of his core. He groans and she's quick to help him into a more comfortable position.

"Careful, Casanova."

Uh, she's so sexy when she's making fun of him.

"It's your fault," he sputters out. "Wanted to try our first kiss again. Didn't want to leave you wanting."

She moves over him and he delights in the feel of her lips against his without any other thems interrupting. Just his Kate and her wonderfully amazing kissing skills.

Wow.

"Better?"

He opens his eyes and she's hovering over his mouth, playing her nose against his.

"Extraordinary."

He's breathless again, but for a much better reason. She's all smiles, and she makes it a point to cuddle into his side as she moves to continue to watch television. He rests his palm against the curve of her side and she snuggles into his body.

Perfection.

"Hey," she asks, looking up at him through her dark lashes. "Want to watch a classic instead?"

"Whatever you want, Kate."

Anything you want, Kate.

"Good, because I really want to watch a Sci-Fi something right now."

He basks in the glory that is her warm body tucked into his own and almost misses her pick the movie from the Netflix browser.

"Have you seen this before, Kate? Or did you just pick it because?"

"No, it's a classic, Castle! You're not a real geek unless you've seen _Forbidden Planet_."

He has a distinct them-memory of his other self and other Kate going to a theater to watch this same exact movie.

"Didn't realize you were that big of a geek."

"There are many layers to the Beckett onion, Castle."

"Can't wait to peel them all."


	3. Chapter 3a

_Fate_

Chapter 3a

"**Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real." –Cormac McCarthy**

* * *

><p>It starts after he's cleared for more extensive physical therapy and the doctor nonchalantly informs him that he's also cleared for mild sexual activity. It's like the word 'sex' releases the flood gates of other him's memories of other Kate, and he instantly felt too warm and confined in the doctor's office. When he gets home he pours all his pent up sexual frustration into Nikki Heat and finally realizes what his flashbacks about page 105 mean.<p>

When Kate comes over that night her tells her what he saw . . .without implying too much that he's basically already had sex with her, yet without _her_.

He had realized very quickly that he needed to always tell her when these memory overlaps occurred. It really wasn't fair that he got this special insight into her life and she was, what did she say?- 'playing catch-up'. He didn't want her to ever think that again. So he told her everything he could remember, and vowed to tell her if it ever happened again.

"I thought they had stopped?" And she's right, they had. The last time he'd even had an inkling of his alter ego was after their first kiss all those months ago. So why are they coming back now? She's kind to him as he pours out his frustrations with his situation, and she listens until he finally collapses next to the couch and tips his head back against her stomach so she can run her fingers through his hair. So calming.

He's pouting like he's a child, and she's smiling down at him like she's enraptured by his antics. She had called him a toddler throwing a tantrum when he gets like this.

Other Kate had called him a nine year old on a sugar rush.

He's not sure which one he likes better.

"Want to come into the precinct tomorrow? The boys have an interrogation first thing if you'd like to watch another." Oh, she knew exactly how to get him out of a funk. He tenses when he feels her shift forward to run her nose against the shell of his ear, and then he's tingling when her warm breath heats the side of his face. "I might join them in the box. Just for you."

He hasn't moved this quick since he'd been shot, and then they're kissing and groaning on his couch.

Everything is perfect with her.

It gets even more perfect when she pulls him toward his bedroom.

* * *

><p>"You had a scar."<p>

He's tracing her skin as they lay together in his bed and his wandering fingers have found the smooth skin between her breasts. Transposed memories are confusing his fingertips. His mind is telling him there should be ridged and marred skin. It's making his head hurt.

"You were shot at a funeral. I can't—I can't remember for whom, but, yeah."

He sees a shiver cause her to erupt into goose-flesh and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss to the unblemished skin.

"Well, now you're the one with the scar, Rick."

She takes that moment to mimic him and gingerly trace the angry red gash on his chest. They'd talked about him jumping in front of her that day in the factory as she'd examined his scars for the first time. The actual bullet hole in his chest slightly to the left of his heart, and the surgical gash on his side where they'd had to go in to fix his deflated lung. She had helped massage oil into the angry scars to alleviate the pulling, and he'd never felt more vulnerable, yet loved.

He hadn't told her that he now matched the other Kate.

She didn't need that burden.

She draws his attention back with a warm palm over his scar and her other hand against his cheek, drawing his lips to hers.

When they pull back, she rests her forehead against his own and closes her eyes in contentment.

"I love you, too, Rick."

He takes such a long pause that she has to pull back to bring him out of his own head. His mouth is slightly hanging open and she has to say his name again before his eyes refocus on hers.

"Another flashback?" Her voice is slightly insecure. It's something he's noticed whenever he has a flashback about other Kate. Almost like she doesn't think she'll ever be able to get a first with him without her other self making an appearance.

"No, nothing. Just—just you. In such a perfect moment, all I could think about was you."

The smile that erupts on her face is heavenly.

And they take each other back into the clouds of bliss.

* * *

><p>"Let me finish this call and then we'll go watch the boys' interrogation, okay?"<p>

He huffs in mock irritation and she unmutes the landline in her office to continue talking to whoever is on the other end. The Mayor? Or was this call to the Assistant DA? He couldn't remember.

Plopping down in the chair across from her, his short attention span zeroes in on the elephants adorning her desk. There are a few standalone figurines, but his fingers itch toward the little troupe bridged behind her name plaque.

As his fingers glide along the lead elephant's back he's wracked with a flashback so violent he knows when he comes back to himself he's going to be on the floor. He sees flickerings of a case file and vivid pictures of a murdered woman in an alley. Time seems to jump because then he's hovering besides a much younger Kate, must be other Kate, and her hands are dripping with blood; the feeling of a bruise to his side physically jars him.

The next bits all run together until he's checking her jacket for a bullet hole and then pulling her away from an older black man—out of a hanger and shushing her through her sobs, telling her it'll be okay.

But he's lying.

Then there's a funeral, and the other him jumping back in front of bullets trying to save his beloved. But he's too slow this time and then he sees her in the hospital, glowing a ghastly pale color under the terrible florescence of the ward lights.

He never wants to see that again.

There are more men, but he only sees snippets of them; flashes of faces and their association surrounding the gruesome murder of Kate's mother. Lockwood, Montgomery, Maddox, Raglan, Coonan, Arman, McCallister, Simmons, Smith, Rathborne, Lazarus. All of these men, some the _same_ man, pierce his mind until there's only one remaining face burning into his eyelids.

_The Dragon_.

As soon as he thinks the name to himself he's gasping for air and scrambling to sit up from the cold, hard precinct floor. Kate is clutching at his chest and he's too panicked to think straight. He knows. He knows everything. Or, rather, he knows enough to piece the rest together. Her mother, her planned murder, the subsequent cover-up, all of the key players, he knows it all.

He doesn't mean to but he's ignoring her please to know what happened and if he's okay. He still can't fill his lungs, so he pushes up off the floor and stumbles to her desk for leverage. Kate is looking at him with the palest face he's ever seen. Wait- no, he's seen her worse. Not his Kate, but at this point he can't calm his mind long enough to make the distinction.

"Beckett." She tilts her head. He didn't mean to use her last name. Like he's a real cop— or closer to it then he currently is. That's not the right universe. Crap.

"Kate." She seems to relax a bit now, but she takes a step toward him and he opens his arms. He needs to feel her close to him, to ground him to this life. Everything is bleeding together and he doesn't want to get lost in the other him's mind.

It takes a few more minutes. Kate had moved away to get him some water and close the blinds in her office. He's taking steady sips, eyes closed, as he tries to figure out where to start first. He's not sure how to proceed. Everything he'd ever glimpsed before was never this traumatic nor important, and it almost feels taboo for him to have this knowledge.

It feels like he's cheating, and he's scared to know the consequences if he were ever caught with the contraband.

Beckett is stoic, and understands the importance of not prodding. One of her more defining qualities: the ability to be calm in moments of panic and hysteria. It'll make her a great mom for their kids.

WHOA.

Where did _that_ come from?!

"Rick?"

He shakes his head of that new little tidbit, not even having the slightest ability to deal with that right now, and looks up at her. He needs to tell her. Or—or he could show her.

He scoots up from his slouching position and swipes the collective elephants' figurine off of her desk and holds it in his hands in front of her. She's got the most puzzling look he's ever seen. The furrow of her brow is too tight and he wants to kiss it away. Only wanting her face to be creased with laughter; never stress.

He feels along the back of the first elephant, his fingertips trembling as he outlines the grooves of the latch along the removable back. With a light pressure he pops the entire porcelain piece off of the figurine and memorizes the mesmerized look on Kate's face. She would have never known to look here without him.

Would have never known the terrible truth.

Would never have had to shoot her mother's killer in the precinct.

Would never have died in the back of an ambulance.

Would never have had to be tortured for information.

Would never have had to strike a deal for their lives.

Would never have found justice.

But, as he pulls the small cassette tape from inside the elephant, he knows this is going to completely throw everything out of balance. And he's not sure where everything's going to land once the world stops spinning.

"It's about your mom's case."


	4. Chapter 3b

_Fate_

Chapter 3b

"**Fate is nothing but the deeds committed in a prior state of existence." –Ralph Waldo Emerson**

* * *

><p>The beginning of the tape is slightly scratchy, and they can all hear the crackle and pop of the mic rubbing against clothes. A hidden microphone, for a shady deal; it almost seems too cliché to be real. He focuses on Kate's face and, for the first time since they've been together, he can't read her. He almost wishes for another memory to give him some insight. No. No more spoilers. No more learning about his Kate through the life of another.<p>

No more cheating themselves. He needs to start putting in a more conscious effort to learn her, not another Kate—only his.

Only ever his.

One of the Tech units, Tory something, came into Kate's office with Esposito- hmm, interesting-, followed by Ryan, and had setup a sound system to play the tape without damaging any of the evidence. He had tried to move closer to Kate, as Tory pressed play, but she seemed completely unresponsive to his presence. This was extremely disconcerting, and now he finds himself alone in one of the chairs in her office; listening to the heavy footsteps of someone entering the room on the tape.

"_Raglan, shut the door."_

Hmm, that was one of the names he knew. He had written them down after he'd handed her the tape and told her what she'd find on it. Her jaw tightening and brown furrowing as he explained what he had seen and how each of them connected to her mother's murder. Her eyes had become steel. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything.

"_You three got a lot'a balls comin' here."_

Three: Raglan, McCallister, and Montgomery- the three cops of their story.

"_Look, we just want to make sure we're all on the same page."_

Kate can't suppress a twitch when Montgomery's grainy voice echoed in the silent room. All three of them, Esposito, Ryan, and Kate, were rooted in place in what looked like—anger? Or was it betrayal? Who was Montgomery to them?

"He was our captain before I took over when he retired a few years ago."

"I didn't –."

"You weren't asking very loudly."

He's hoping she didn't mean to sound as accusatory as he's taking it. But that might just be his ego.

"_You took us for a lot'a money, Bracken… we want assurances."_

Oh, so this meeting was a blackmail/negotiation meeting. Interesting development.

"_Hey, be happy I haven't busted the three of ya' for your little Mafia extortion ring!"_

Busted? As he's thinking it he watches the other three in the room realize the exact same detail. How would the other person in the room be able to bust them? Unless he's also in law enforcement. Holy shit! How high does this go?

"_Whoa, relax—."_

"_No, you want assurances? Here ya' go! I assure you that as easily as I pinned Bob Arman's murder on Pulgatti, I can just as easily pin it on the cops who actually did the deed."_

Murder. This is not—wow, this is not what he—this is getting too real too fast, and suddenly it's not very fun playing cop.

"_Yeah, but a lot can go wrong! Pulgatti knows he's been framed! What if someone gets on to this?"_

"_Then I'll handle them. _

"_You? How?"_

This is the moment. The culminating moment where everyone listening to the tape takes a pause and waits, hopes, that Montgomery had been able to get the person in the room with him to incriminate himself. That this whole meeting wasn't for naught.

"_I know people, Roy. Dangerous people. If anyone gets too close, like that bitch lawyer, Johanna Beckett, who's been poking around, I'll have them killed. I've had people killed before."_

Got him.

* * *

><p>He hasn't seen her in three days.<p>

He calls her every night, but his calls go ignored. She does respond to his texts, but her answers are chopped, one-word responses so it's not enough of a conversation to stop him from being upset and feeling ignored.

His flashbacks have completely stopped and all he's left with is the hollow, slowly dissipating, memories of his other self. Almost like the universe had one final purge of information until completely righting itself and closing that bridge forever. Even as he thinks back to the flash about her mom's murder, faces are beginning to get fuzzy and details are blending together.

It was with a double dose of frustration that he threw the door open on the fourth night and found her there; looking destitute and lost. Her eyes were dark with exhaustion and her entire presence seemed to be listless and weak. It was taking everything in her to stand.

"Beckett."

He wasn't sure how to take her being here. She seemed to cringe when he called her name—oh, her last name. Great. Not the best way to start this.

"Please don't call me that. I'm not her, Castle. I can't be her."

She had closed her eyes as she talked and he took a step forward to envelop her in his arms. She folded into his body, and soon he felt her shaking with silent tears. How long has she been holding back? How long has she had to be strong alone?

"I'm sorry, Kate," he whispered into her hair. "I didn't mean—it wasn't intentional."

She nodded into his shirt, accepting his apology.

"Do you want to talk about it?" A vague enough question to give her the power over the knowledge; to give her some sense of control over this unruly situation. She responded with shaking her head into his chest and clinging to his shirt, burying her face into his solid form. He squeezed her a bit tighter and placed a kiss to the crown of her head.

"What about food? When was the last time you've eaten?"

Her non-response was enough for him.

"I'll go run you a bath, order some food from wherever and then we'll see how you feel after you've taken a moment for yourself, sound good?"

She nodded.

* * *

><p>He awoke to the smooth trace of her fingers around the puckered scar on his sternum. It was still extremely dark in his room, and they had both gone to sleep after nibbling on Thai noodles only a few hours ago. Why was she up?<p>

"I didn't mean to wake you."

Her voice sounded so meek, and that was never an adjective that he ever wanted to use to describe the amazing woman that was Kate Beckett.

"I don't mind. You can always wake me."

He could see her grin in the darkness of his room, and he took that moment to wriggle a bit closer to her. He didn't want to pry, but at the same time his imagination wouldn't stop with the potential information she'd gained in the four days without him.

"We have a name."

He was silent, tracing small designs onto the naked skin of her back. He didn't want to interrupt her when she was working so hard to open up to him.

"2016 Presidential Candidate, Senator William H. Bracken of New York."

The name thrummed through his being and he saw blurred images of a tall man with dangerous, cold eyes. It was almost like looking through murky water. The connection must be severing. Hopefully his other self was okay. . .

"Castle? Did you see anything?" Oh, was she using him?

"Kate, are you trying to trigger my flashes? For shame."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. If they—I can help in any way I would love to. They've just been getting weaker and weaker since I passed out in your office. I might have over-heated the connection."

She chuckled and burrowed into her pillow and his arm that had come around her to bring her closer.

"But, a Senator huh. That's gonna be complicated."

She nodded. "I don't even know where to begin. We've tried getting ahold of Montgomery but his children haven't heard from him or his wife for the past six months, so I think he's running. I'm just not sure why he's disappeared _now_. Everyone else involved is dead, Castle. Dead. I just. . .I don't know if I even want to start digging, but I don't want to let her down." Her voice was so small at her final admission.

"Kate," he brought his hands up and cupped her face, making sure to make eye contact. "Your mother is so proud of you, and she will always love you. If we don't have any evidence now then we keep digging, together. I have a bad feeling about you doing this alone." She bit her lip and nodded.

"Together then?"

"Yes, always together."


	5. Chapter 4

_Fate_

Chapter 4

"**Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together?****  
><strong>**Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences.****"** - Emery Allen

* * *

><p>"Hi, you've reached Captain Kate Beck-."<p>

He slams his iPhone down on the desk, probably cracking the screen and not actually hanging up the call, and starts to pace the precinct floor between Ryan and Esposito's desks. He sees the two detective's being briefed by the higher up in Narcotics through the conference room window and his blood boils. He wants to scream and wail on everyone involved with the undercover mission that's got his fiancée-no, girlfriend, she's not. . . he was going to. . . that's the other them until he gets to ask her. If that's even something he can do now.

This happened to the other Kate, too. At least, he thinks it did. Everything has been so hazy lately, but he distinctly remembers the panic felt by his other self, and it perfectly matches how he's feeling now.

He lets out a grunt of frustration and throws himself back into a chair facing the murder board-oh God, he can't call it that- investigation board, rubbing his fingers down his face and staring blankly at the extremely limited information they have.

How could he not see this coming? Literally?! He's never been so angry with himself! Sure, his visions of their other selves have stopped since he passed out in her office, but surely something would have triggered him? It used to happen at the slightest touches or more benign words but now, when his girlfriend's life is in danger from a drug ring, he can't get the slightest clue into her whereabouts. He thought the point of this gift was to be able to stop all these things from happening! The universe doesn't just dump another you from another timeline into the world, give you all this insight and knowledge, and then let the woman of your dreams die, right? That's not what was happening, right?!

Oh, God. She's going to die.

"Castle!"

He jumps, startled out of his mournful introspection by Esposito's barking voice.

"You're coming with me. Tory thinks she's got a location on Beckett."

He's never moved so fast in his life.

* * *

><p>It's her voice over the phone that finally breaks him and he lets the tears flow.<p>

"Rick."

Her voice is so hoarse and deep that he almost doesn't recognize her. He's holding his cracked phone to his ear so hard that it's probably making a mark on his face. But he doesn't care because his world has righted and she's not dead.

She's-she's not gone.

"Kate."

His voice breaks over the hard 'T' in her name and he has to clamp his jaws shut from letting a sob rip from his chest. She needs him to be strong. He can cry later after she's safe.

"Will you come find me?"

Her voice sounds so broken—like she'd been screaming. And he can distinctly hear the chattering of her teeth between her pauses.

"Yes, love. I-we'll be there so soon."

She hums in acknowledgement and he thinks she fell asleep with the phone still in her hand. Casting a startled look to Esposito, they continue to speed down the deserted highway toward the red ping on the map that Tory's feeding straight to them.

Straight to his Kate.

"Kate you gotta stay awake, babe. Talk to me. Tell me something I don't know about you." His mind was racing as they zipped closer to her blip on their console and he cradled his only lifeline to her in his hands with a death grip. Esposito nods at his line of thinking as they take a particularly sharp turn, and he takes that moment to focus back on Kate.

"I know how to ice skate."

"That's not new, babe."

She grunts, "Don't call me that. That's your name." Her words are slurring together and he's mixed with deeper concern and a surge of pride that she was claiming him; that he was worthy of a nickname. It was extremely conflicting to feel love and dread of potential loss churning in his chest like some terrible concoction.

"Ok, I'll think of another name for you."

She just hums again, seeming too tired to speak.

"I still knew you could skate. I've seen the pictures. Your dad showed me the last time we went over for dinner."

Her hum this time is in annoyance and he'd laugh if he didn't think she was dying.

"Gonna have to kill him."

"Kate, we're almost there."

"Can't stay awake anymore, Rick. M' head hurts. Eyes too heavy. E'rything hurts-." She stutters a breath and he can here the wheeze and struggle to breathe.

"We're so close."

* * *

><p>He hasn't let go of her since they found her tucked into the roots of a gnarled tree in the middle of the forest. Now clutching one of her hands in the back of an ambulance as they fiddled with warming blankets and getting fluids into her system.<p>

Her clothes had been frozen to her body, lips tinged blue and body shaking from mild hypothermia. She had been unresponsive when they had first arrived and Castle gently wrapped her in his coat and had Esposito help him take her into the back of the car. He'd changed her shirt and given her his sweater that he wore over his button-down- warm fingers meeting harsh, cold flesh.

He had had to keep checking her pulse. Wasn't convinced that she could be this cold and still have a beating heart.

She was covered in large bruises along her sides, and there was dried blood in her hair. Scabbed lacerations donned her wrists where they must have bound her, and she had a deep gash from the side of her jaw to her collar bone that looked to still be bleeding into his sweater. She was covered in crushed leaves and other small bits of forest floor and he fiddled with the dial for the rear seats, trying to get heat to blow from the vents.

The paramedics had been right behind them with Ryan and the additional back-up, but they seem to have fallen behind when Esposito had bulleted down the freeway once Tory confirmed her location. He'd have to buy that man something fast as a thank you for getting him here so quickly.

And now he was here, Kate's eyes drooping and then shooting open as they rushed to the closest hospital. He felt a small squeeze to his fingers that had stopped rubbing her knuckles and he startles out of his own thoughts to see Kate focused on him. He feels the tears before he's fully registered that he's crying and she starts to move her arm to reach his face.

"Ma'am please don't move, I don't want you to accidently ruin your IV."

He scooches closer to her hand that's now palm open on the gurney and quickly places a lingering kiss to the pulse point at her wrist as she curls her fingers on his cheek, still deathly cold.

She's still looking at him as they approach the Emergency entrance to the hospital and he swears he sees her mouth mime 'I love you' as they prep her to be moved and she closes her eyes either in pain or from exhaustion-at this point they might still be one in the same for her.

God, she's alive.

They bustle her out and he's left trailing behind, only a second thought to the emergency crew who rush her in for evaluation, until a nurse directs him to the waiting room for emergency patients.

Now he waits.

* * *

><p>She's been staying with him since she was released and he's pampering her nonstop. Breakfast in bed, foot rubs, neck massages- anything and everything she could possibly need he's catered to. She was currently propped in the dead center on his bed, surrounded by every plush pillow he could find that wasn't being used, being warmed by an extremely cozy electric blanket. He had insisted that she even have a personal pillow for her casted arm that had a hairline fracture at the elbow.<p>

"How are you feeling this morning, Kate?"

She languidly looked up from the Samsung Tab that he had set her up with, and a cherished smile blooms as her eyes find him. Uh, just her smile make him giddy. He's gotta ask her sooner than later about marrying him. There was no other possible outcome for them.

That was their end game. She's all he'll need for the rest of forever.

If she'll have him.

"The stitches are itchy, but other than that I'm very cozy on my pillow throne."

"Here, let me get a warm cloth and I'll see what we can do about those itchy stitchies."

She shakes her head at his playfulness and he dashes into the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with a warm washcloth to clean her worst injury. He sits next to her and ignores the pang of want as he stares at her slender neck. It's always been his favorite place to start his foreplay.

He realizes how intimate this situation is, and that Kate seems to be trying to ignore him as he tenderly works the cloth against the angry black stitches that pepper the long mar on her skin.

"I got it from trying to fight off Harden, one of Lazarus's guys. He was one of the ones who-one of the ones who had helped him dunk me. . .in the ice water." She inhaled as she ended her sentence, seeming to need to remind her subconscious that she's not still being held under.

He doesn't stop cleaning her neck and stays silent as she continues. Having to catch her breath against the mild bacterial pneumonia that she'd been diagnosed with at the hospital, he waits as she starts to cough and has to take a few deep breaths before she can continue. She had told him a little of what happened, but for the past few days he hadn't pried, no matter how desperately he had wanted to know exactly what had happened to her. She had gone through a very traumatic event, and he didn't want to cause her anymore pain then she'd already been through, so he was patient.

"After- after they realized I wasn't going to talk after being half-drowned and beaten, Simmons ordered then to get rid of me. They bound my wrists with extremely tight zip ties and hauled me into a car."

Her voice was shuttering and he decides to move closer to her so he can squeeze behind her and the pillows, wishing she didn't have bruised ribs so that he could just squeeze her to him in a desperate attempt to expunge the memories out of her. Simmons, Vulcan Simmons. The front for this whole drug money laundering operation. Apparently Kate and Ryan had had a confrontation with him in the past, so when she had been introduced as Elena Markov he'd made her easily.

"Harden kept talking about all my fellow cops that were also buried in the woods where you had found me, and how I'd be joining them in the ground. He never saw my initial retaliation until after I'd broken the zip ties and had already kicked him and took off."

He places a kiss to the back of her neck and he feels her lean back into him, accommodating him into her space. There's no point in interrupting with pointless apologies until he hears the rest of the story.

And he knows there's more from what he'd been able to hear when she gave her statement in the hospital.

The most chilling bit was still to come.

"He caught up to me and tried to slice my throat, he must have dropped his gun, but I moved, not fast enough obviously, but quick enough that he didn't splay me open to bleed out in the dark, alone. The sudden pain made me stumble and I fell down an embankment and hit my head on the way down-which is how I got the concussion- and as he descended upon me I knew I was going to die, Castle. I knew I'd never see you or my dad again."

She was crying now and he tries his damndest to envelope as much of her into himself as possible. To try and alleviate the pain on her soul that this experience has caused her. To try and bring her peace.

"But, then Elena showed up, the woman I was impersonating for Narcotics, and she sliced his throat with her butterfly knives. She kicked his body aside and stood over me with her head cocked to the side as if she were a large cat that couldn't understand why the mouse she'd been playing with no longer moved when she batted it. It was terrifying."

He can see the whole exchange in his mind, and he wonders for a second if his other self had to deal with this same situation or if his Kate came back less damaged.

"She stepped toward me and I was ready to die. I had already resigned myself to it. So, when she just told me that this was Lazarus's one and only attempt at deterring me from my mother's case, and that he'd be calling in a favor in return for my forfeit life, I was very taken aback. And then she left me there to freeze. It was disgusting, but I took Harden's phone from his body and found a safe place to hide. And then I called you."

He felt her twitch again and he moves to make her more comfortable in the pillow throne once more.  
>"What do I do, Castle?"<p>

He pauses as he's placing a pillow back under her arm and takes a moment for the story to bleed into view in his mind. With Lazarus's confession they now know that he's, in fact, not Vulcan Simmons but Bracken, and now Kate owes him a life debt for saving her from his own people who must have acted without his consent. They'll probably be facing their own retribution for their actions and he's almost positive they'll be punished terribly, but what does he say to the love-of-his-life who's still crying on his bed.

It's terrifying to think that he wouldn't have just let her die. Not that he's not extremely glad that she's alive, but that Bracken might try and use her for some unforeseeable nefarious plot terrifies him to no end. He need to make sure that she works on getting better, and hopefully Bracken won't try to call in his favor before they can assemble a plan.

"You do nothing, Kate, except heal. Once you're back up and one hundred percent we'll figure it out. This doesn't stop us from trying to get justice for you and your family. We still have the tape, and I've got my forensic pathologist friend still looking at your mom's case file. Whatever the original M.E. might have missed he'll find, and don't forget, we're still waiting to hear back from Montgomery. It'll be alright. I promise, we'll be alright. We won't be intimidated into silence by a dirty politician, love. So, for now, we wait, and together we'll face this storm once we've found our footing."

She looks at him with such a devotion that it makes his heart leap in his chest, and then she nods as if finally accepting their situation and finding a sliver of hope within the void.

"Okay."

"Okay."

* * *

><p>AN: I've been on a business trip for the past few days when I realized that I hadn't posted anything for this in way too long. Thanks to a few longer flights I was able to cobble this together surrounded by snoring middle aged men who seem to think it's okay to fall asleep on me.

I hope all of you have a safe and wonderful holiday, and I look forward to start wrapping this story up in the next few chapters.  
>-Liz<p> 


End file.
